


Broken Silence

by Dusklatte



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Byleth is mostly mentioned rather than actually featuring, Canonical Character Death, Chance Meetings, Character Death, Claude's braid may also end up as an important plot device too, Cultural Differences, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Flashbacks, Funeral, Grief/Mourning, Jeralt's diary will be a recurring plot point, Life-changing injury, Longing, Lorenz being... the voice of reason?!, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Set during time-skip, So I may have caused a lot of pain to Claude in the first chapter, The people of Fodlan hate Almyrans don't they-
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusklatte/pseuds/Dusklatte
Summary: Claude is usually prepared for any possible situation.The fall of Garreg Mach starts a chain of events he can't even begin to comprehend.





	1. Alone in this world

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this when I was taking my break and lunch break at work today... I kinda wished we knew more about what happens during the timeskip in all of the routes (I mean wow a lot seems to happen) but because Byleth decides to just sleep for 5 years you barely get to know much... So I want to fill the gaps with my interpretations of what canon says and what I think happens?
> 
> So I ended up writing something kinda angsty. I must be some sort of sadist, hurting my favourite character like this (I'M SO SORRY CLAUDE FORGIVE ME)

Claude von Riegan, the Alliance noble most well known for being prepared for any situation which could arise, was far from prepared.

In the few short years since he had been recognised as the legitimate heir to House Riegan, he had helped his grandfather out of many a difficult situation. His grandfather’s ill health contributed to many of the plans which he had come up with, as he wanted to make his life easier... but he hadn’t been expected to be thrown into the Alliance Roundtable Meetings with all of the other nobles so quickly.

He was still in a perpetual state of disbelief following the loss of his beloved Teach, after all.

It was less than a mere three months since the Battle for Garreg Mach, with the newly crowned Adrestian Emperor, Edelgard, storming the holy grounds and the academy within it. He made a point of remaining near Byleth, as although his professor had promised to keep all of her students safe, she had never promised to protect herself. Yes, she may have had power granted to her by an apparent Goddess, but that didn’t mean she was any less human than the rest of them.

There had ended up a point where a large group of demonic beasts had emerged, and Byleth had ordered – _demanded, _perhaps – that all of the students retreat into the monastery. Claude had to be dragged away from her by Dimitri and Hilda.

A few minutes later, from the safety of the monastery, everyone was caught by surprise at the sight of a pure white dragon caught in combat against the demonic beasts. Claude recognised it as being the Immaculate One, from the diagram which Seteth had confiscated from him a few months earlier. He had a feeling in his gut that it wasn’t Byleth, but rather someone with close ties to the Church.... and given that Seteth and Flayn were also in the monastery... he had close to no doubts that it was the Archbishop herself. He wasn’t going to say that out loud though.

Soon enough, everything fell still and silent. Garreg Mach was in shambles, aside from the entrance hall where the Officer’s Academy students were gathered. Eventually, others began to emerge in the room, all with the same story.

_Edelgard had retreated. The Immaculate One had vanished, as had the demonic beasts. _

_There were many dead._

As familiar people entered the room, Claude's heart grew heavier. Hanneman and Manuela, for once not bickering... Catherine, being supported by Alois following a leg injury... Shamir and Cyril, both relatively unscathed, having been attacking from a distance...

_But Byleth was not one of them. Nor was the Archbishop._

The next few days had been days of mourning. The dead were gathered, those recognisable given names before they would be carefully returned to their homes for their eternal rest. The unknown were dedicated a special burial in the graveyard at Garreg Mach, before the grave was marked with a monument recognising their hard work and sacrifice in the battle.

Seteth had decided to collate the names of the missing and deceased in a book of condolences.

Claude hated that book.

Even as one by one, people left Garreg Mach behind as Rhea was missing and the Officer’s Academy was in shambles, Claude remained in the Cathedral, glaring at that book.

In particular, Claude hated the last page.

_Lady Rhea, Archbishop of the Church of Seiros – Missing._

_Byleth Eisner, Professor of the Officer’s Academy – Missing, presumed deceased._

He had wanted to punch Seteth for allowing that to be written down. Claude knew that Byleth couldn’t be dead – something in his heart had told him that. He felt that he just had to wait, then he would hear the sound of her familiar heels against the stone floor, they would have a quick reunion, then he would invite her to stay in Derdriu with him, as she no longer had a place to call home.

Surprisingly, it had been Lorenz who had been the one to pull Claude away from his vigil at the Cathedral.

“Claude. We must leave now,” the heir to House Gloucester began, tensing up when he saw the pain in Claude’s eyes and the cuts covering the palms of his hands from the many times he had clenched them. “I too believe that the Professor is also alive. But whilst we wait for her to return, we have our duties in the Alliance.”

“I don’t want to return yet. Not until-"

“Are you not aware of the current situation in the Alliance, Claude? Your grandfather is _unwell. _As the legitimate heir to House Riegan, you need to be there to support him. I know that I often talk about my father and I awaiting the day where we shall rightfully become the leading house of the Alliance, but we are _not _awaiting the day where we take charge because of House Riegan collapsing, rather than through our own merit.”

Claude had to take a moment to think over Lorenz's words, before burying his head in his hands as be sighed. “You’re right... Sorry. I'll... I’ll have to gather my belongings before I go back though...”

“Good. I am glad that I have helped you in seeing some sense.”

And so, that had led to Claude’s current situation. His grandfather was on his deathbed, and the next day was set to be the next Alliance Roundtable meeting. Fortunately his grandfather had been able to attend the ones between the fall of Garreg Mach and now, but he was clearly too frail to attend the next one.

Claude watched over his grandfather’s breathing, which was slow and laboured, and presumably painful. He noticed that his grandfather would occasionally look over to him, which would be when he forced on his signature smile.

He was caught by surprise when he heard his grandfather start to speak. “You’re strong, Claude...” there was a few forced breaths, before he spoke once more. “Don’t put on... a smile for me. You’re hurting after losing... your professor in that battle. Count Gloucester mentioned it... at the last meeting...”

Claude’s face fell after that. He didn’t know that his grandfather was aware of Byleth. Or that Lorenz had told his father about the fact that he had been missing her desperately. And that said father had then told all of the Alliance nobles.

“You’re strong just like your mother... It doesn’t surprise me now that even though she ran off with that Almyran... any children she would have would be strong like her too...”

Claude sighed. “Every time you mention my father, you just love to neglect mentioning that he is the Almyran King, don’t you? He's strong just like mother too.”

His grandfather then looked away. Clearly talking about his father was a touchy subject still, almost twenty years on from his mother falling in love, so he changed the subject.

“I’ll do my best to make you proud as Duke Riegan, grandfather.” Claude then did something he couldn’t actually recall every doing before, and took hold of his grandfather’s hand. It was surprisingly warm. “You've worked hard to make the Alliance what it is today. I’ll do my best to make it better. I’ll protect it from the Adrestian Empire when they bring the war to us. But I’ll protect and prepare everyone as best as I can until the time comes...” He squeezed his grandfather’s hand, not realising that his chest had stilled and his eyes had closed. “I promise you...” Claude then looked up, and his breath hitched. “... Rest in peace, grandfather.”

Claude remained where he was for a few more minutes, before one of the attendants which worked for his grandfather entered the room with the intention of giving him a drink of water. The attendant gasped when they realised that tears were staining Claude’s cheeks, and that his grandfather was no longer with the living. The glass of water fell to the ground.

“M... My sincere condolences for your loss... Duke Riegan.”

That night was a sleepless one for Claude. He was tired, restless, and grieving, after all. The House Riegan staff did their best to support him when the morning arrived, but nothing they did could help Claude hide the redness under his eyes or his clenched fists.

Also, that morning was the first time since he was a young child that he had failed to add his signature braid to his hair, instead allowing the strands of hair to fall onto his face. Some staff wanted to remark on it, but decided not to when they had noticed that Claude had the lone possession handed down to him from his grandfather (aside from his title) by his side – the Heroes Relic of House Riegan, Failnaught. They didn’t wish to push him the wrong way and end up at the wrong end of the bow, as after all, because they were from Fódlan, and he... _he was part Almyran, and Almyrans liked to pick fights._

The people of Derdriu went about their usual business as Claude briskly made his way to the location of the Alliance Roundtable meeting. Some people stopped and started at Claude, as they had grew used to seeing him wandering around, albeit just in a yellow dress shirt and dark trousers, not a full noble getup.

Also, he was late. He hadn’t exactly expected for his grandfather to pass as soon as he did, and had hoped that he could seek his advice on how he dealt with situations at the Roundtable meeting... not to just be thrown in the dark as he had been. He hated leaving things to chance, after all.

Many pairs of eyes fell onto Claude as he stepped into the room, including the familiar eyes of Lorenz, Marianne, Hilda and Lysithea (though he could have sworn that House Ordelia had been in the process of stepping down from these meetings). He was silent as he took his place at the seat at the table where his grandfather would usually sit, and it did make him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

“It is about time that House Riegan _finally _showed up...” Count Gloucester finally began, which made Claude’s jaw tense up. His former Golden Deer classmates noticed this, Lorenz in particular, but nobody could stop the Count from continuing. “But why is it just you, child? Where is the Duke?”

Claude started to repetitively tap his fingers against the wood, before taking a deep breath. “Count Gloucester. You _are _speaking to Duke Riegan.”


	2. Temporary Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has only two things of hers in his possession - her signature straight face, and her late father's diary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... I couldn't quite believe how well this seems to have gone in the mere day since I posted the first chapter... I'm genuinely shocked at the positive reception!!!
> 
> I'm quite awkward when it comes to responding to comments because my social awkwardness extends to the internet to some extent, but please know that I appreciate every single one and that I go back to read them when I need an uplift in mood 💛

Claude had been surprised at the sympathy which had been showed at the Roundtable meeting. Count Gloucester had been mostly silent after learning of the passing of Claude’s grandfather, and the other nobles decided between themselves that it would be best to keep the meeting short. After all, it was Claude’s first meeting and he was straight away tossed into the deep end.

Many of the original agenda items had been trivial, such as infighting about governance within the different territories. They had all been pushed aside for the more pressing matter – the Adrestian Empire. It was clear from the start that some places had already began showing allegiance to the empire, though that was not surprising – houses Ordelia and Gloucester bordered with the empire, and were likely being pressured into allegiance.

Nothing a little infighting to feign neutrality couldn’t deal with though. So long as no physical altercations occurred, and no fighters from the Empire entered Alliance territory, that is.

Once the heated discussions had ended, Claude retreated as quickly as he could. He had done his best to keep a straight, unreadable face during the discussions, as he had learned from a particular professor, but it was hard for him considering the emotions which were bubbling under the surface.

One he was home, he broke down in the silence. The heavy, heavy silence. From what he was aware, his grandfather’s body was no longer in the house, but had been taken during his absence in preparation for the funeral. He had dismissed all of the staff and attendants before he had left for the Alliance Roundtable meeting too, as they had all been in shock over the death.

_He truly was alone now._

With a shudder of his shoulders, the floodgates opened. Too much had happened over these past three months. He lost Byleth. He lost the companionship which came with being but a student. He had spent most of his time caring for his grandfather. And now his grandfather had joined the dead.

His body sank down against the door, his hand doing it’s best to mute the wrecked sobs escaping him. He hadn’t been prepared for _any _of this... He wished he could have been, but it was hard.

What made it even worse was that he knew that he had to be strong in public. It was only within these four walls that he could be himself. How would his people react if they saw their new leader breaking down?

At least that was a... relatively useful lesson he had received from his parents during his oh-so-wonderful life as the Almyran Prince.

_Don’t be emotional when you want to. Be emotional when it won’t impact on anyone else. _

Claude eventually wiped the tears from his face, and took a deep breath. He just needed to... plan something. _Yeah._ Get a bit of stability in his life, and plan out what’s going to happen for the foreseeable future.

Now... _What needed to be done?_

  


All day it had taken Claude to plan out what he needed to do between now and the next Alliance Roundtable in the following month. But he was relieved that he actually had something to do to keep himself distracted.

The first item on his agenda was for that evening... something he had been wanting to do for months now.

After Byleth had entrusted him with Jeralt's diary, he had barely ever separated from it. He had promised to protect it and return it to her, and he intended to fulfil that promise. Before he returns it to her though – and he is sure that he will – he was going to read through it.

He sat down inside the study in the Riegan household, lit a candle, and kicked his legs up onto the desk beside him. Once comfortable, he opened it to a random page.

  


* * *

* * *

  


_ **4** **th** ** of the Garland Moon, 1166** _

_ **Cloudy** _

_We’ve just finished a job in the kingdom. Pretty fortunate we finished now and not tomorrow, the rain will be coming in soon. It’s also pretty damn lucky that our recent job was for the King himself, we have more than enough money to wait out the coming storm in an inn. Lambert offered to let us stay in Fhirdiad but Byleth wasn't too keen._

_The kid ended up spending a lot of time with the prince too. They are both tiny but seemed to like play fights with each other. Well, little Prince Dimitri was laughing a lot and Byleth had her usual straight face. But I can tell she liked it._

_Except for when the prince accidentally broke her wrist. She almost went ballistic on him._

_She’s seven years old, and she’s like a demon._

_Couldn’t have my kid any other way though._

  


* * *

* * *

  


Claude had to hold back a smirk as he read that page. It was the first time in over three months that he had found himself entertained by something. Even if it technically meant that Dimitri knew Byleth before anyone else did.

_Oh well._

_Despite this, she had chosen to teach the Golden Deer class when she became a professor. Maybe she didn’t even remember Dimitri by then? Or did she remember the broken wrist and didn’t choose the Blue Lions for that exact reason? Perhaps Jeralt remembered, and he could have steered her away to the supposedly more ‘down to earth’ Golden Deer?_

_These diary entries were likely going to bring up as many questions as they answered._

He then closed the book, and looked up the ceiling as he leaned back in the chair, laced his fingers together and rested his hands on his stomach.

Those few moments he had been reading had honestly felt like he wasn’t as alone as he actually was. However, he didn’t want to read through the journal too quickly – his desire for Byleth to return would grow to be too much, and he knew that he would snap and lash out at the wrong person at the wrong place and time.

That would be the last thing he needs…


	3. Dark and dull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To him, funerals were a time to celebrate. In Fódlan, the opposite appeared to be true.

One thing which Claude had learned recently was that funerals in Fódlan were not similar to funerals in Almyra.

He could recall many a time back in his father’s homeland where a feast would be laid out, and music would be playing. The adults would toast the deceased over a drink of alcohol, the children would divulge in the available treats, and maybe have a dance or two. It was very much a celebratory occasion, in honour of the fallen.

In a way, a funeral in Fódlan was quite the opposite. The atmosphere was too forlorn for his liking, even a joke or smile would earn a harsh glare or ten. People could only wear black – the only hint of colour being permitted in the form of a lone flower or object which the dead would have on their body.

The first funeral he had attended in Fódlan had been the one for Jeralt, following his murder. He hadn’t even been present for the funeral of his uncle, the only other legitimate heir to House Riegan, as that had been a few months before he was brought to the country.

Weather seemed to also reflect the atmosphere at these funerals too… without a doubt, there would be rain. The day in which Jeralt was buried with his late wife, it was pouring down. Claude did his best to comfort Byleth under an umbrella that day. The day of the mass funeral for the unknown who had died in the battle for Garreg Mach was also cold and damp. And now, there was today…

He was stood inside the cathedral of the Eastern Church which was situated in Derdriu. Rain was pouring almost relentlessly against the stained glass windows, leaving flecks of darkness on the colourful shadows which were being cast onto the floor and his grandfather’s body and casket.

His hair was also drenched, in addition to the dark suit which some of his grandfather’s former attendants had requested he wear. For the first time in a few days, he had braided that annoying strand of hair once more, but had gone and tucked it behind his ear in an attempt to keep it and the rain water out of his face.

With a sigh, he put his hands into the pockets of his trousers, and looked at his grandfather for what would likely be the final time. The old man looked too peaceful for how dull a day it felt.

“Hey… You okay, Claude?”

The new duke froze when he heard the familiar voice behind him, and his shoulders tensed up. He had been so unaware of himself and his surroundings as of late, he felt that he was losing his touch. “Hilda… I don’t know. I-” He paused as he turned around to look at his former classmate. “I honestly don’t know.”

The pink-haired girl sighed as she approached him with a slight skip in her step, before she started messing about with his hair and clothes. “For a duke attending his predecessor’s funeral, you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge,” Hilda eventually stated, her lips pursing together. “Dragged though a hedge _backwards. _Don’t even get me started on that stubble on your chin._”_

“Damn… thanks for pointing out the obvious...” He grumbled in response, before he felt his braid tugged out from behind his ear, and his hands forced out of his pockets. “You having fun doing that?”

“Nope.”

“Then why are you trying to make me look all neat?”

“Because it’s tradition. Plus, you’ve got to make the eulogy later, as the late duke’s successor and grandson-”

“I’ve got to… what?”

Hilda paused for a moment, before she covered her mouth in shock. “You’ve… not prepared for it?”

“Eulogies don’t happen at funerals at my homeland. Funerals there are… _nothing _like the ones here.”

With a sigh, Hilda took hold of Claude’s wrist and pulled him over to one of the pews. “Let me go and find my brother. He’s had to do his fair share of them in the past… Just wait there.”

* * *

* * *

It was late at night. Claude was both mentally and physically exhausted following the funeral of his grandfather. He had decided that there and then, he was going to make a vow not to have anyone close to him die if the situation could be avoided. Never again did he want to do something so dull and draining as a funeral in Fódlan again.

Obviously, he knew that it couldn’t be helped if natural causes were the reason behind it, but he still wished to not have to attend another funeral.

Once people had got the hint that he was tired of hearing their likely false sympathies and praise about his grandfather’s actions and his own strength in such a ‘trying time’, Claude had made his presence scarce.

As such, he was now in a bar which overlooked the ocean in Derdriu. He liked it there. When he had visited at one point once he had become the age where he was permitted to drink, his grandfather had taken him there to try some of the Alliance’s alcoholic specialities. Turns out that the place was also one of Byleth and Jeralt’s favourite places to frequent on times where they had a job in Derdriu back when they were mercenaries.

The people in the bar felt much more tolerable than some of the suck-ups at the funeral. They could tell that he just wanted some peace and time to think, rather than be swarmed. The only times people would talk to him would be when he gestured for a member of the bar staff for a drink refill.

He knew it would be irresponsible for him to drink too much though, so after a point, he stopped with the pints and only drank water.

However… a familiar voice caught his attention as he took a few sips of the water, ice from the glass coming into contact with his nose as he paused.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll take just a pint… Actually, make that two. Kinda need it, you know? And besides, surely a pretty lady such as you would- Ow! Okay, okay, sorry! Just one then!”

Claude sighed. “Stop harassing the wait staff, Sylvain...” His green eyes were staring towards to redhead who was also stood by the bar, recovering from what appeared to have been a slap to the face. “Why are you even here? Last time I checked, Derdriu was Riegan territory, not Gautier.”

Sylvain yelped when a pint of beer was slammed down right in front of him, catching him by surprise. “D- Damn...” He then took hold of his drink, shifted over to sit on the stool beside Claude, and sighed. “It’s a long story… But let’s just say that things haven’t been going too well in Faerghus since Garreg Mach fell. Heard Derdriu is the best place which isn't in the empire to go to relax, so here I am to escape it all for a few days.”

Claude snorted, and finished off his glass of water. “Lucky you. I wish I could escape from everything that’s happening in my life, but I can’t.” He then reached into his pockets, and placed a large amount of gold down as he looked at the waitress who was giving Sylvain dirty looks. “This should cover my drinks, and whatever my friend here wants to drink.”

The waitress huffed for a moment, before walking over and collecting the money. “Thank you for your custom, Duke Riegan.”

Claude walked away, grumbling about how Sylvain was lucky to have not been going through what he was.

Once he had gone, Sylvain scratched his head for a moment. “Since when was Claude a duke?”


	4. One with nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude needs a break, so he leaves Derdriu in good hands. He takes this opportunity to remember one of his fondest memories from when he was a student.

Time was passing quicker than Claude wanted it to. He longed to be able to take a firm grasp of it, and pull it back to the day where his Teach went missing. Unfortunately, he wasn’t some sort of omnipotent, divine being with the ability to manipulate time to his bidding. Plus, that would be selfish – he didn’t like leaving things to fate, but he also didn’t like controlling events in their entirety. The art of manipulation and the ability to predict potential outcomes were much more his style.

Despite this passage of time, it didn’t mean that he didn’t possess time to spend on himself. He decided to take a leaf out of Sylvain’s book, and take a bit of time away from Derdriu. Hell, Riegan and Alliance territory in its entirety.

He had left his land in the responsible hands of Nader – seeming as he had conveniently emerged from Almyra at just the right time, presumably at the request of his parents – before making his presence scarce. Nobody would blame him if he wanted to leave for a short while, after all, he was supposed to be in mourning.

With nothing but supplies for a few days, and Failnaught by his side, he had slipped away in the dead of night. He intended to make the most of this soon-to-be-rare opportunity of free time. He would look at the stars at night, live off the land… Just in general what he could do with his freedoms in Almyra before it was discovered that his mother just so happened to be related to Fódlan nobles, and that she was being sought out over her brother’s death.

Claude also remembered the times where Byleth decided to carry out ‘team building’ exercises in a manner similar to this. She would tell everyone in the Golden Deer class to take hold of a weapon of choice, a bedroll, and one other essential item. After that she would pull them out to somewhere isolated, and say that they were going to be camping out for a few days to test their survival skills as a group. She would obviously participate, but she had lived her life in that way anyway, so everything they did was familiar to her.

There was one time which he remembered quite fondly, not long after Dorothea had joined the class, and also following the mission where she had ended up with the Sword of the Creator. He had a smile on his face for the first time in months as he recalled what happened when he was setting himself up for the night.

* * *

* * *

“I think this place is where we will set up our campsite...” Byleth mumbled, her tired students after a day of walking emerging behind her. She made a quick note of where they were on a map she had in her possession, before tossing her bedroll and sword down onto the ground. “Take ten minutes of rest, everyone. After that, we set up for the next few days.”

As this wasn’t the first time the class had gone out camping like this, the vast majority of the group began to prepare themselves. The only exceptions to this were Marianne – who had always been quite unsettled with leaving Garreg Mach without Margrave Edmund’s permssion – and Dorothea.

“Ah, excuse me, Professor...” Dorothea had taken a few light steps towards Byleth until she was by her side. She then leaned forwards with her arms behind her back as she tried to look at the deep-in-thought Byleth in the eyes. “You just said ‘_for the next few days’…_ I was never told that these trips which you organise were a few days long! I am absolutely unprepared...”

Byleth blinked for a moment, before sighing loudly. “I thought that I had asked Hilda to explain- Oh, never mind, she never would have...”

Though her face barely showed it, Byleth had been agitated at the fact that now, the entire group would be lacking in some resources for the time they were going to be away. Claude, however, decided to step in before the Ashen Demon went to hunt a particular Goneril.

“Normally, once a month after a mission, Teach takes us all out on a camping trip. She says it’s _meant _to be about testing our survival skills in real-life situations, but in reality it’s her way of trying to get close to us, and understand us better. By us being in a survival situation which she is used to, she can read us better as people,” he began, receiving a glare about how easily he had read between the lines with regard to the motives behind the trips. “Normally, we are asked to bring three things with us – something to sleep on, a weapon, and one other item we deem essential. Or, in Lorenz’s case, a tea set. But obviously, you’re not prepared for this, so… I’ll lend you my bedroll for the trip. I’m sure everyone else will be willing to share things with you too, seeming as you are a Golden Deer now.”

Dorothea was holding her hand against her chest dramatically, before she smiled. “Oh my, thank you for letting me know, Claude… And thank you for the bedroll, it’s most appreciated!” Her voice was very much in a sing-song tone as his bedroll was snatched out of his arms. He then sighed and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

Byleth seemed quite amused now. “So, in a kind gesture, the deer finds itself without everything that it needs… I wonder what the deer will do now...”

“Well, a deer doesn’t need man-made items to survive. The deer lives on what nature provides.” Claude was smirking as he leaned against a tree, and raised an eyebrow towards Byleth.

“So, you won’t mind if I confiscate your bow to see how you survive then?”

“I- I very much will mind! Okay? The deer lives on what nature provides, _with _its bow.”

“A deer doesn’t have hands.”

“And a professor doesn’t have to be so pedantic.”

“Nor can a deer speak.” Byleth went over to Claude, and pinched his lips together. “Or stand on two legs.”

Claude grunted as he managed to free himself from the now-smiling Byleth, before he held his arms behind his head. “Fine, fine, you win.” He then sighed, and noticed that his fellow classmates were returning to the campsite. “But I’m not letting this rest. Not until I can outwit you, Teach.”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

* * *

* * *

Claude had fallen asleep in the middle of his reminiscing, and ended up waking as the sun started to rise. He had wished that he could return to those days of calmness, back when he was a student. However, the current state of affairs meant that such a thing would be impossible. And besides… He only had three days of freedom.

He only had three days to return to Garreg Mach.

_Three days to find his Teach._


	5. Here and now (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude knows he has better uses for his time, but he ends up at Garreg Mach anyway.

Claude bit his lip as he looked up at Garreg Mach. For the first time in the 995 years of its presence here, the building was devoid of life. He felt as though he was intruding on this once-sacred place, but he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he raked his hands through his hair.

He did, however, feel that he should have made better use of his brief break away from his mass of new duties in the Alliance. But he still decided that this is what he needed to do. He had to be there. He had to look for her.

“Teach...” He clenched his hand around Failnaught, and made those first few steps past the metal gates which had been removed from their hinges at some point over recent months. “I’ll be there for you… I just hope you’ll be there for me.”

An uneasy comfort flooded Claude’s body as he entered the abandoned marketplace. Goods which had been left behind before that first major battle against the Imperial Army were mostly scavenged by now, though things had been left in a particularly organised manner.

The items would have been taken by the Knights of Seiros as they evacuated Garreg Mach. After all – they believe Rhea is alive somewhere.

_It’s frustrating that they didn’t extend the same courtesy to the vessel of this supposedly omni-benevolent goddess they worship so much._

After a few moments of grumbling about how the church held Rhea in much higher esteem than Byleth, he caught eye of some arrows neatly stashed away under one of the stalls. He decided there and then that it might be a good idea to gather resources whilst he still could.

When he pulled out the arrows, he raised an eyebrow. There was a note tied around one of the arrows by a piece of purple ribbon. Both the handwriting and the ribbon used was familiar…

_Lysithea used to buy cakes which would be in a box wrapped in this ribbon._

With a frown, he undid the ribbon and pulled the note away from the arrow. It was certainly a message from Lysithea… Now, he knew it would be rude to pry, but if it had been abandoned in such a way…

_I will be leaving Garreg Mach tomorrow. It is too dangerous to remain here, not with Edelgard and her army declaring war. My home is on the border with Empire territory so I don’t have much choice. _

_If possible, I would love to find a time and place to meet with you to continue what we started here, but if not, I wish you the best for the future._

Claude hesitated reading further, feeling stunned by what could be implied by the words of Lysithea’s message. Was the youngest of the Golden Deer having some sort of tryst?! He certainly was surprised.

However, his assumptions were dashed as he read on. The note had been left for Cyril, the only other Almyran present at Garreg Mach. Lysithea had been giving him reading and writing lessons. That was much less surprising, yet also reassuring.

_Everything which Lysithea did for Cyril was affirmation that his dreams for a peaceful world without barriers could be possible. That the people of Fódlan could be open to others._

Silently, he re-attached the note to the arrows, before he put them away with the other items he had with him. He intended to find one of the pair, and give them the arrows. He didn’t want something as innocent and their lessons and this gift to fall in the hands of enemies or be destroyed.

He gathered up other items which would be of use to him, before he found himself at a split in his path. He had three routes he could take… Into the entrance hall of Garreg Mach, towards the stables, or in the general direction of what was once his and his classmates’ dormitories.

He didn’t even stop to think before heading towards the dorms.

The cheerful memories from the past year and a half certainly came flooding back as he looked around. He could recall seeing Byleth being extremely determined as they held a fishing competition at the pond which was along his path. He didn’t participate, but did watch from a distance. Flayn had been overwhelmed and delighted when Byleth caught the fish which she had desired.

He also remembered the many times he would sit with Byleth in the dining hall too, enjoying some of his favourite meals. There had been a few times where she would step away to stop Raphael from eating everything on offer, or protect the dining hall from being burned down by Annette. She would always look happy when eating… But she had no idea how happy it made him, being able to eat with her. She was the best company he could have asked for…

Then there was the greenhouse. Byleth was often found in there with Dedue, looking after the plants. He had even been given the chance to try some of the fruit which she grew once, and it was delicious… So, so delicious… And her flowers, they would always be so vibrant. It was sad to see her stop going in there once Jeralt was killed. She went in there once to gather the final lot of flowers she grew, just to leave them on his grave.

Upon his eyes falling on the doors of the dormitories, Claude gulped. Byleth had dominated all of his favourite, happiest memories in the Officer’s Academy.

He wished she was still here to make more memories with-

“No… Don’t think like that, Claude… She will be there. She will, she will-” His eyes shot over to the stairs leading towards the further back rooms, where he knew Byleth’s was. Without a moment of hesitation, he ran. He ran faster than he ever had done before. He needed to see something… _He needed to see her._


	6. Here and now (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude's instinct to go visit Garreg Mach, in particular the abandoned student dormitories, leads to a chance encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heck, it's almost been 3 months since I updated this, but I finally come with a chapter!

Her door was open.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but her door was _open. _She would always lock it when she left, and on the day where she disappeared... he remembered seeing her lock it. She had been hesitant, but she had locked it.

_Could she have been waiting there for someone...? Could she have just been waiting for anyone to realise that she was alive?_

Claude took a few silent steps forward, before there was a creak as the door opened slightly. He hid behind the broken wood of what was once the door of Dedue's room when a figure stepped outside.

“For an abandoned holy place, there isn’t many treasures here. Wasn’t even worth our time. Well, unless we find a way to pick the lock of the big room on the top floor of the monastery.”

“No kidding. The only thing of value we’ve found is this ring in that room.”

Claude peered out slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

_Byleth wasn’t here... it was just a group of lowlife thugs stealing things... Her things._

“I suppose we could make some more gold if we take the ring apart. The jewels seem to be real, and the metal can be melted?”

His hand tightened around Failnaught as he stepped out from his hiding place, and began to glare at the thieves.

“You’re not going to be doing that. You’re going to be returning that ring to where you got it from.” The thieves froze when they heard Claude’s voice, and promptly turned around when they saw the faint flash of red light as he prepared the weapon to shoot. “Put. It. Back.”

“It’s ours! Back off, you- you dirty Almyran!”

Claude winced at the insult which had been thrown at him. He had dealt with being called that more than enough since he came to Fódlan, but being called that as he came to this place, which was perhaps one of the safest places he had been in his life, hurt.

Before he could react in any way though, one of the thieves let out a blood-curdling scream and dropped the ring onto the ground. Claude was stunned at the sudden noise, until he realised why they had done that.

_They had been impaled by a weapon... A relic weapon, based on its _ _b_ _one-li_ _k_ _e appearance._

When the weapon had been pulled out, and the thief slumped to the floor dead, a third person could be seen a few feet back. “Leave here now, you- you _rat._”

Claude watched as the living thief ran past him faster than he had seen a person run before, shocked at the sudden turn in events. Then he looked at the person who had killed the other thief, and his eyes widened.

“Don’t put that ring back in her room. Just take it with you. There have been rats over the past few weeks, and no doubt there will be more,” the person began, turning around so that Claude couldn’t see their face, just the heavy-looking cloak they were wearing. “And leave. Garreg Mach is no place for those who deserve to live any more. Leave, Claude.”

Straight away, this person knowing his name made him realise that this was not just ‘some person’. The pieces began to fit together. They were holding a relic weapon. Based on his past research, that was Areadbhar, which belonged to House Blaiddyd. The cloak was blue, again, a colour of House Blaiddyd. They knew his name. And he could recall Sylvain saying that there was a lot of trouble in the kingdom.

“If Garreg Mach is a place for those who don’t deserve to live, then why are you here, Dimitri?”

“I...” Claude watched as Dimitri hesitated, before he shook his head and began to briskly walk away. But he wasn’t going to take no answer to his question. He began to run after the prince, retrieving Byleth’s ring from the floor as he did so.

It was actually somewhat fortunate that Dimitri had been wearing that heavy cloak, as it left behind a trail from where it had caught dust and dirt. He followed that trail towards the cathedral, which is when he tensed up and stopped.

In that building... that building was where Seteth had announced that Byleth was missing, but believed to have died. He remembered the feeling of his soul _shattering _when he heard those words.

But he wanted to fight off that feeling. He needed to speak with Dimitri, and have his question answered.

It took a moment to make sure his breathing was steady, before he made his way inside. Almost straight away, he was stunned by the sight. There were soldiers from the empire in there... all with fatal wounds. Recent wounds at that. Some of the blood on the floor still seemed to be wet.

Then there was a wretched sound from the front of the cathedral.

Claude did his best to ignore the bodies on the ground as he made his way to the source of the noise, before realising that the person behind it was Dimitri.

The prince was crouched in an almost aggressive stance, hand clamped over his face and with Areadbhar on the floor beside him. Near to him was a badly injured soldier, holding a blood-soaked dagger in their hands... clearly intending to inflict damage to Dimitri.

Claude didn’t hesitate in raising Failnaught to shoot that soldier.

Dimitri tensed up when he saw the arrow pierce through the soldier’s body, before turning to face him.

“I told you, Claude... _Leave this place._”

“No. I won’t.” He silently approached Dimitri, who didn’t turn away this time. He noticed that there was blood slipping between his fingers. “What happened?”

“It’s none of your-!” Claude pulled his hand away, and shook his head with a sigh. “... That rat approached me from the shadows. I didn’t see it until its weapon was...” There was a jagged cut across his eye, and an awful lot of blood.

Ever since Byleth had become his teacher, even up until this day, Claude had always wondered as to why she had insisted everyone in the Golden Deer class knew at least one basic healing spell. Her only reasoning why had been ‘_you never know when you will need to use it’. _Now though… It seemed that she had been right.

_Byleth had always been clever… He just wished he had her smarts now, as the world fell into war._

  
  


* * *

* * *

  
  


Claude had spent quite some time helping Dimitri with tending to his injury. It had ended up with him forcing his way through rubble and broken furniture to get to the infirmary to gather bandages and the like. Dimitri now had a bandage covering part of his face, in addition to an eye-patch helping to keep it in place and to protect his eye from further injury.

Now though, it was late at night. There was no way that either of them could leave Garreg Mach at this time. The former student dormitories were not in a state suitable for living in, many of them had been ransacked or damaged by fighting. Instead, the pair ended up going into one of the few rooms which was relatively unscathed, and could provide warmth and protection – the former Golden Deer classroom.

As Claude started to light the fireplace in the room, Dimitri was sat at one of the old desks looking pale and tired. But despite this, he kept a close eye on the Alliance’s leader… After all, Fódlan was at war, and anyone could be an enemy. And he could never read what Claude was thinking. There was a spark of a flame just as Dimitri decided to speak.

“What made you decide that you had to return here, at this particular time? Are you not meant to be assisting your grandfather in Derdriu?”

The question made Claude grit his teeth slightly. But still, he obliged the prince. “I had a few available days, and I don’t believe that Teach is dead,” he began, taking a deep breath as he hesitated. “And… I am surprised that the news of my grandfather’s passing didn’t reach you in Fhirdiad by this point. It has… been a good few weeks.”

Dimitri raised an eyebrow at the comment about Byleth, purely out of scepticism, but his face fell neutral again as he heard about Claude’s grandfather. He had heard that there had been some changes in the Alliance’s leadership, but not the specifics of it all.

Silence filled the room once more after this, aside from the hushed crackling of a few embers igniting, and of Claude doing his best to break some wood from an old seat so that they had a supply of firewood. Dimitri noticed the slight struggle, so he quite clumsily made his way over, and used his foot to break the wood.

“You shouldn’t do things like that when you’re light-headed and dizzy, Dimitri. Eye injuries can be pretty crap, I can imagine being burned and covered in splinters being even worse.”

“Tch. I would prefer that over...” He shook his head quickly, which just made him quickly stretch out his arm and grab hold of the wall. “Ignore that.”

Once the fire was stable, both Claude and Dimitri were sat at opposite sides of the fireplace so that they could keep warm as the winds outside picked up, and the night became colder.

“You asked me about why I was here before… And I happen to have the same question about you, Dimitri. Why are _you _here? In the here and now, what made you decide to return to Garreg Mach?”


	7. Changes to be made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost one year has passed since the fall of Garreg Mach, and Claude is visited by three old companions with news from over the Alliance's border.

Claude’s return to Derdriu had been very uneventful. When he had woken up the morning after he had encountered Dimitri, the prince had disappeared – so he decided that it would be best to return home. If Byleth were there… Dimitri would have said as such.

He did feel that he had a piece of Byleth with him now though – her ring. Or rather, the ring she had been given by her father. He had seen her holding it with Jeralt’s diary after his death, so he knew that it had been left behind for her. That ring had so much sentimental value to it, and… he intended to return it to Byleth when they were to meet again.

After his return, things had continued as usual. Once a month, there would be an Alliance Roundtable meeting. At each of those meetings, allegiances became clearer and clearer. Houses Gloucester and Ordelia were being pressured into listening to the Empire. As such, Claude had to keep pushing for the infighting to continue. It was the only way for peace to remain in the Alliance, and for Edelgard and her armies not to see it as a prime target.

During this time, there had been many unfortunate events, and Claude didn’t like that he was growing accustomed to tragedy. People continued to die, and people continued to suffer. As each month went by, he would have to attend more funerals and extend his sympathies for those who had been lost. There were those who would thank him for his support, though there would be others who would blame him for their loved one’s demise. He felt himself becoming more and more detached from the emotions surrounding grief and loss.

He wished that wasn’t the case, but he knew that he had no other choice. He couldn’t be seen as weak or as broken. He needed to stay strong, or the Alliance – and possibly even Almyra – could crumble at the hands of the Empire. They were a force to be reckoned with.

When the first anniversary of Garreg Mach falling approached, he had received the worst news he had encountered since the Church claimed that Byleth was believed to have died.

“Duke Riegan, three people from Faerghus were apprehended attempting to enter Derdriu wielding weapons. They claim to know you and wish to have an audience with you. Should we have them escorted back to the border?” When one of his attendants had approached him in his study, whilst he was in the middle of reading a few more entries from Jeralt’s diary, he hadn’t been expecting to hear what he had been asked.

He turned around on his chair, and raised an eyebrow. “Did you get the names of the three people? I would rather check to see if their claims of knowing me are true before any rash decisions such as forcing them out of Alliance territory is taken.” He cast a slight glare at the attendant, letting them know that he didn’t approve of their thought process of instantly having these people removed from the Alliance.

“We only have the name of one of them, as he is notorious around Derdriu for his… manners towards women in the city’s bars and taverns. Sylvain Gautier. He is accompanied by another man and a woman.”

Claude sighed. Of course it would have been Sylvain – he had seen him around Derdriu multiple times over the past year, claiming to not be wanting to be in Faerghus given the kingdom’s current state. As for his company being a man and a woman… He grew to believe that it would likely be Felix and Ingrid. Dimitri wouldn’t leave the Kingdom… he would hope.

“I’ll see them. But only on the condition that they aren’t treated as though they are intruders. They are not. They are friends of mine, and I will not see them treated like dirt. Bring them here, and I’ll meet them in the lounge downstairs.”

“As you say, Duke Riegan…” He could clearly see that the attendant was uncomfortable with his decision, likely due to the risk it would hold for if there were spies from the Empire in the city seeing him host three people of Faerghus, but he deemed this a necessary risk. He needed to keep relations open for if the worst ever were to happen.

Once the attendant left, he decided that he had enough time to read another entry or two in Jeralt’s diary before he would be needed. So, he picked up the journal and removed the bookmark he had placed when he had been distracted.

* * *

* * *

** _20th of the Horsebow Moon, 1174_ **

** _Sunny_ **

_Today is Byleth’s fifteenth birthday… I took her with me to a local bakery and told her that she could have a cake if she wanted. She declined… Said instead that she wanted to finally be allowed to join me in our jobs. I knew that she was eventually going to ask that question. She is the best sword fighter amongst us, so as a leader, I knew it would be for the best. As a father though… I didn’t really want her to join us in battle. _

_She ended up giving me one of her rare smiles as I thought about it though… I can’t say no to her with one of those rare shows of emotion. So… the kid is officially one of the mercenaries as of today._

_Instead of a cake, the kid got a sword._

_It’s also fifteen years since you left this world, Sitri… I miss you more than words can say._

_I love you._

* * *

* * *

Claude bit his lip as he read that entry. So Byleth had officially been a mercenary for about five and a half years when she was asked to be a teacher for the Golden Deer.

It was also the first time that he had read her mother’s name in the journal. He knew what her name was, but Jeralt hadn’t mentioned it in any prior entries. It made him feel so sad when he read the name, though… He knew that Jeralt wasn’t too emotional, but he could feel the outpouring of emotions in those two short lines.

He decided not to dwell on it too much, and instead looked to the next page, to read the following entry.

* * *

* * *

** _29th of the Horsebow Moon, 1174_ **

** _Rainy_ **

_Byleth did good in her first official job as one of us. We were doing a clean up of bandits for a minor noble, and she had the highest count of defeated mercenaries by far. I’m proud of her, though do worry for if she hears the nickname some of the others have given her. She showed no emotion and no remorse when fighting, to the point that one of the bandits shouted that she was a demon. Some people in the group heard that and started speaking about it amongst them when she had excused herself from the group to clean herself up. _

_‘Ashen Demon’._

_I hope that this name just stays within the group. I can’t be having Rhea hear of our group and attempt to search for us. I don’t want her laying eyes on Byleth. I don’t want her to know that she survived the fire at Garreg Mach. I don’t want to lose my daughter to the Church._

_I also didn’t appreciate the extra money which that minor lord decided to give to Byleth behind my back either. I’ve told the group that we aren’t working with him again._

* * *

* * *

Claude didn’t know what to think as he read that entry. But it did answer a few of his questions, however. This was when she was first called the ‘Ashen Demon’… And it also reaffirmed that the looks of doubt which he kept seeing Jeralt give to Rhea back when he was a student were genuine.

At this point, he re-inserted his bookmark and placed it into a drawer in his desk. He would rather keep something of such sentimental value safe and secure, rather than on a bookshelf.

He then made his way downstairs, just as he saw the doors to the building open, and the attendant from earlier arriving with three people behind them. It was exactly as he had assumed – it was Sylvain, accompanied with Ingrid and Felix. However, they appeared to have more than just weapons with them, as he had been told earlier.

“Duke Riegan… Here are the three people from-“

“I know who they are, there is no need to introduce them to me or vice versa. It’s been a long time, Ingrid, Felix,” he began, before sighing. “Sylvain.” He then turned to the attendant, and waved his hand to dismiss them. They seemed more than happy to leave as he proceeded to lean against the post at the bottom of the stairs. “The three of you look almost as though you are moving home – those bags you have with you seem very… packed.”

Felix could only grumble something under his breath, whereas Sylvain could only laugh awkwardly. Ingrid, much to his relief, was able to respond to his statement. “Yes… We have had to leave Faerghus. His Highness was executed last week, after his uncle was supposedly murdered by him… We were against this, but we were not in the position to say as such. Even worse… Blaiddyd territory was straight away changed to a Dukedom by the new leader, Cornelia, and annexed by Empire soldiers. As close companions to his highness… we no longer felt safe in the Kingdom.”

Claude nodded along, before folding his arms, closing his eyes, and lowering his head. “So… Dimitri has left this world… That is…” he closed his eyes, and sighed. It was terrible news, and the first he had heard of it. But he knew that the connections between Faerghus and the Alliance were weakening as time went by, so news such as this would become a rarity as the war continues. “So, what brings the three of you to Derdriu? As ‘close companions’ to Dimitri, as you put it, coming here is putting the three of you, myself, _and _the Alliance into a precarious situation. This could be taken as me deciding to align the Alliance with the Kingdom, and giving the Emperor reason to attack us.”

“We’ve abandoned our titles and inheritances. We’ve come here because we no longer want to be a part of the Kingdom. Sylvain said that you’ve been accepting of outsiders in Derdriu, so going to you is our first port of call. That, and you were our house leader in the Officer’s Academy after the Professor recruited us to the Golden Deer. We see you as more of a leader than the Boar ever was.”

Ingrid hit Felix over the back of the head at that point. “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Felix. Though… he isn’t exactly wrong with what he is saying. You proved yourself to us as a worthy leader… a leader that we can – and will – follow.”

Claude had to take a few moments to think, before a faint smile formed on his face. “Fine. I can trust the three of you. So, I tell you what… I’ll try and find somewhere for the three of you to stay, here in Derdriu. However, there will be a few conditions to remain here, just to reassure the residents of the Alliance, and any of the other nobles who catch wind of this…”


End file.
